Losing Harry
by MrsPotter97
Summary: Harry has a dark secret. Can his friends and family save him from it? Rated T for child abuse.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Harry hadn't wanted to go back to Privet Drive. He had asked Dumbledore if he could go straight to the Burrow, or even stay at Hogwarts, but the old man firmly told him that he needed to, for his own protection. Harry had then gone to the Weasleys, begging them to take him with them. Molly looked apologetic, saying she wanted to, but Dumbledore had said no. Then, in desperation, Harry found himself contacting Remus. But the werewolf had told him the same thing everyone else had- he needed to go to the Dursleys.

What they didn't know was that their refusal, even if it was out of their concern for Harry's safety, was driving Vernon Dursley's message deeper into the boy's head. The message that Harry had been hearing ever since he was eleven and had gotten his Hogwarts letter: "_Nobody wants you._" So at King's Cross Station at the end of fifth year, Harry mumbled goodbye to his friends, hoping that it would not be the last time he would see them.

Hoping, because none of them knew what really happened when Harry was at Number 4, Privet Drive.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note:

Hi, everyone! I hope this prologue caught your interest! I hope it won't be too long until chapter one will come out. Possibly by this weekend, but it's hard to tell. Anyways, feel free to shoot me a review and tell me what you thing. Constructive criticism is welcome!


	2. Chapter 1

AN: This is the EDITED version. I will not be uploading the original anywhere else because, truthfully, I really actually hated it. I guess I just got a little too excited about uploading my first story and rushed through it- and the result was not very good. So hopefully this second shot will be better! Thanks for hanging in there, and review if you feel like it. Constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I in no way own the characters, places, and events in this story. They belong to the brilliant JK Rowling and I am merely borrowing them. Also, please note that there _is_ a prologue that comes before this. Please read- it's short!

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Chapter 1

The rain poured mercilessly down in droves, battering the pavement and windows of the neat houses of Privet Drive. The gale blew fast and furious, whipping trees and leaves around and around until they were merely blurs. The lights shining through the windows were bleak and hazy, the houses impossible to make out through the storm. Animals and humans alike had taken refuge from the storm, yet a few unlucky souls were puttering down the drive, eyes straining to see out the windshields while the wipers worked overtime. The sky, earlier that day a divine blue, was now inky black as night. Claps of thunder and forks of lightning split the sky and made the earth tremor. Rain poured off roofs like waterfalls.

Inside number four, Privet Drive, in the cupboard under the stairs, Harry Potter pulled his knees closer to his chest for warmth and pulled the rag that was his blanket up to his chin. He told his friends that he stayed in Dudley's second bedroom as not to draw attention to it, but he, in truth, still resided in the cupboard. What once already was a tight fit for an eleven year old was now an excruciatingly small space for the fifteen year old, and Harry's body ached every day from being scrunched up into a tiny ball every night. Ever since the Dursleys found out Sirius was dead and that they were, in fact, no longer in danger of having an angry wizard appear on their doorstep, they had locked him in there whenever he didn't have work to do. Harry almost preferred doing manual labor, because it took his mind off of the grief.

_Sirius._

Every time the name came to Harry's conscious mind, he had to work hard not to cry out. The first few weeks back at the Dursley's, Harry had been in a near comatose state. He barely ate, spoke, and didn't show any joy in anything, not even reading and answering letters from his friends. Even his replies were short and had a complete lack of emotion. "_Ron, doing fine. Hope the family's well. Talk to you soon." _If Ron and Hermione had noticed, they didn't say anything, only contributing more to Harry's loneliness. Vernon and Petunia just passed it off as "typical strange behavior of _his_ kind", and let him be as long as he did his work and kept out of the way, which Harry gladly did. But when the owl came the second week of holiday, everything changed.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry had been at the stove, cooking the extra pound of bacon for Dudley, whose diet Aunt Petunia had given up on. Her new excuse was that Dudley was "getting ready to go through a growth spurt, and needed all the energy and nourishment he could get." In Harry's opinion, he didn't think it was nourishment, but instead mistreatment, even if neither Vernon, Petunia, or Dudley realized it. Dudley was about five-foot eleven inches, and though Harry wasn't sure of the exact measurements, three-hundred pounds.

Harry heard the mail slide through the front door and deposit itself onto the floor, and automatically put down the pan, striding into the hallway to retrieve it. He returned to the kitchen and placed the stack of mail into his Uncle's chubby hand and returned to the bacon.

Harry heard the sound of paper being shuffle and Vernon's gruff voice muttering, "Bills, bills, Dudley, you've got an invitation- probably an important dinner…Petunia you have something from the gardeners and neighbors associations, more bills and- what's this?" Harry turned away from the bacon and stared at the piece of parchment in his uncle's grasp. He noticed painfully neat, loopy handwriting in green ink, and as he glanced at the envelope lying on the floor-no doubt he would have to clean it up- he noticed a bright red seal that he knew very well…

"That's mine!" he exclaimed, dropping the spatula and desperately snatching at the letter. "Please, I'm sure of it!"

Vernon's piggy eyes narrowed in delight as he held the note out of his nephew's grasp. "Well, well then, what have we here?" he sneered, reading the letter as fast as his brain could process it. Suddenly, a malicious smile lit up his face. "You may want to hear this, boy," he smirked, and began to read aloud.

"_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_ As you may have wondered, the last will and testament of your god father, Sirius Black, has been issued, and much of it concerns you. He wished you to come into the possession of the contents of his Gringotts vault, and that has automatically been transferred to your account. He also wished for you to have ownership of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, as well as all of the belongings in it. As he died, the title of Secret Keeper of its location has been transferred to you, so be aware of this. He has also left you the custody of Buckbeak, but he has been left in Hagrid's care for the moment being, until you decide what you would like to do with him. I wish to go over his final wishes with you in person, so I plan to pick you up in a week to take you to the Burrow. I'm sure your friends will be happy to see you._

_ Hoping you are well,_

_ Albus Dumbledore"_

Vernon finished reading and gave Harry a look that he did not like. "So, your godfather's dead, is he?" he scoffed, a malevolent smile beginning to creep onto his face. "He can't protect you anymore, can he?" Harry's insides turned to ice. He knew that his uncle would no longer hold back. Harry's relatives knew that if they upset Harry too much, they'd have Sirius to answer to, but now that he was gone, they'd have free reign.

Vernon looked at Harry standing there, the pan of bacon still in his hand. "I suggest you finish cooking and move on to your chores, boy," said Vernon, "or you'll have _me_ to answer to."

It was the beginning of the end.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Ever since that fateful morning, Harry's uncle had become increasingly physical with him. If he didn't finish his chores, or if Petunia deemed them insufficient, Vernon slapped Harry or pulled his hair. If he talked back, that was a punch. Misbehavior of any sort earned him some form of punishment, and they were gradually getting worse.

One morning, Harry had woken up with a fever, and he knew he wasn't well. Petunia had forced him to prune every plant in the whole garden the day before, and hadn't let him come back inside until he had finished, even when it started to rain. When the rain stopped, she came to check his progress, and instead found the boy shivering, soaking wet, sleeping under a tree. She dragged him inside by the ear and told her husband what had happened. Vernon had punched Harry so hard he saw stars and pushed him into a wall. Then he locked Harry in the cupboard for a week, the longest time Harry had ever been in there without food.

Harry winced at the memory. He could still remember the gnawing, hollow feeling that originated in the pit of his stomach on the third day. It worsened over the week so badly that by the sixth day, he was ready to eat his own arm. Never had he felt more alone. Luckily, that was the worst Vernon had done to Harry. But he knew that he wouldn't hold back if Harry made him really angry…

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Constructive criticism and reviews are welcome!


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